


Loaded Conversations

by frogslay



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Reconciliation, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogslay/pseuds/frogslay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after defeating the Archdemon and the Mother the warden has caught up with Alistair for a little chat about how everything went wrong. Implied f!Mahariel/Zevran.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loaded Conversations

It had been so long since the Landsmeet. Enryl had moved on to rebuild the Wardens. Of course there had been her brothers and sisters at Weishapt, but none had ever felt so close as Duncan and the would be king. To this day it was still hard to even think of Ali... him, only made more obvious to those around her by the noticeable flinch whenever he came up in conversation. Perhaps that was why, despite knowing what she should be doing with her new found freedom, she found herself brooding outside a shady looking tavern.  


Straightening her clothes, and fidgeting with anything at hand, she finally let out a heaving sigh as she threw the door open. Just how clearly the bell rang as the commander entered told exactly what sort of tavern this was. Lights so dim it rivaled the streets outside, mostly failed to reveal deathly still patrons. Hands raising for more ale was the only movement as she made her way to the booth adjoining the rear exit. No one stirred as she slid in next to a man, and the room returned to light groans and crackling from the hearth.  


"You were quite hard to find."  


The man shifted his head on the table slightly, shoulder-length blonde hair sticking to his cheek. Ceasing his attempts to retrieve the last few drops of alcohol from a bottle, he turned to see who had spoken, considering whether to answer. Finally giving up on the elf leaving, he glared up at her. "That's the point of hiding isn't it?"  


"Come on Alistair, it's been years. Can't you at least play at civility?" Enryl put her hands together pleading.  


The ex-Warden lifted his head from the table, staring longingly at the bottle in front of him. Lifting what use to contain Orzamars strongest whiskey, Alistair shook it back and forth in front of his former friend. "I think I can manage that for another bottle."  


Enryl motioned for a waiter, handing him a few coins. "Make sure my friends civility doesn't run out." As the man began to leave she grabbed his wrist. "On second thought, you'd best bring me some mead." He left after retrieving a few more coin.  


Alistair let himself fall back into his seat looking rather smug. Apparently drinking up her nesteg agreed with him. "So how's life for saint Mahariel?"  


"I think that's the only title they haven't given me. Although, as I understand it, the Chantry has it in the works."  


The ex-warden raised in his seat to glare at her properly. "Tell me you're joking."  


"I wish I were." Enryl laid her head in her crossed arms, groaning loudly.  


There was a long and overly awkward silence as both tried to work up the will to speak. What did one say after years of dereliction of duty, not to mention the whole betrayal thing?  


Admittedly they had both worried about each other, and the stray thought of what the other was doing with their life had come up. Apparently Alistair had found a bit more bravery somewhere in his bottle than Enryl had been able to muster.  


"Something tells me you aren't here to join me in the process of pickling my liver. What do you want?"  
She laid there for a long moment staring at the grain in the table. Still dreading this moment, but realizing stalling was pointless, she sat up straight and fussed with her clothing again.  


"Honestly, I'm not sure myself." She raised her hand to pause his next statement. "Let me explain... As you may have heard I have been the savior of Ferelden not once, but twice. The darkspawn are finally as much at rest as they ever are, and that has given all the Wardens some breathing room. I should be out touring the countryside and licking lamp posts in all applicable seasons, but as you may have guessed, I'm not. I've spent nearly half a year tracking you down. By all rights I should be out living as close to a married life as I'll ever get." She stared at her hands, as she picked at her nails.  


"When I'm alone the only thing I can think of is the Landsmeet. I dwell on how we left things, and what you are doing to yourself because of it."  


"So you regret choosing that murderer over me?" He hadn't meant it as a question, but it still was.  


"No, I have no real regrets about my choice, just the consequences of it."  


The waiter came by with their drinks, both downing a third of it in one go.  


Handling himself quite well for someone who had already downed an entire bottle of rotgut Alistair sat his whiskey down. "Then why bother knocking at my doorstep at all?"

"Because I'm hoping explaining some things might help deter you from completely destroying what little sense you had to begin with."  
"Now you're starting to sound like Morrigan." He grinned over that bit of nostalgia, then shrugged. "I got nothing better to do. Explain away oh Hero of Ferelden." The sarcasm was not lost on her.  


Enryl stalled, playing with her tankard, finally giving in with a great sigh. "Part of me had hoped you would be a good king. You are like a brother to me Alistair. Being a Warden hadn't really been a choice on my part. I should say seeing the state Tamlen was in should've been enough explanation for that. You were there like no one else could be, and I wanted more than anything for you to lead us all like I believed you could. I didn't see how blind you had become. Your first act as king was to be one of tyranny. Your Queen hadn't asked that Logain be pardoned. All she had asked was that her fathers life be spared."  


"But you weren't going to simply imprison him, you were going to elevate the man who had basically annihilated all of our brothers and sisters!"  


She winced visibly. "It irked me to agree to his joining, I promise you that. Had our situation been any less dire I assure you, he would have been the first soldier out on the front lines, in nothing but his smallclothes."  


Alistair cracked a smile at that image. "That would be all he deserved. Fitting too."  


"The problem was that there were only three Wardens within range of the hoard and you turned tail and ran when things weren't going your way."  


"You were going to make the man responsible for our situation one of our own! How could I stay with a leader willing to degrade our ranks that way?"  


"Face it Alistair, you abandoned your duties and Logain was the most experienced soldier we could get our hands on. There were more important things to be taken care of than petty revenge."  


"Like what?"  


"Like darkspawn. What good was it for Duncan to make you a Gray Warden? The first thing you did when faced with a hoard was disappear to the nearest tavern to drink yourself senseless. When darkspawn show up, Gray Wardens fight them. I only knew the man for a fraction of the time you did and I still managed to learn that."  


Alistair stood from his seat, pounding his fists on the table, speaking through clenched teeth. "How dare you bring up Duncan in defense of Logain?!"  


She glared up at him, every bit as angry. "There was no guarantee Logains army would have spared Kailyn, or the Wardens. "  


He fell back into his seat. "Not that we'll ever know that. Treacherous bastard."  


"The 'treacherous bastard' was the exact problem."  


"Isn't that what I've been saying?"  


"No, at least not the way you mean." She paused to gather her thoughts. "From the moment we left Ostagar he stopped being a person to us, while he still remained a hero to nearly everyone else in Ferelden. We were up against a legend, and even knowing Logain had bowed out, many still remained loyal to him. They may have banded together to fight the immediate threat but there was no guarantee that civil war would not break out later. Sparing Logain's life was the best choice for lasting peace in Ferelden. You were just too blinded by rage to see that."  


Alistair threw his arms in the air. "So what if I was?! That man had taken everything from me!"  


"He had? As I recall it was darkspawn killing everyone at Ostagar. His actions certainly didn't help, but I hardly think he's responsible for all of it. To be honest I think most of your misery is self inflicted."  


"Funny, I thought you were the cause of all my ills. At least that's what every barkeep from here to Denerim has heard." He loomed just a little too close to her face, glaring.  


"Believe me, I know. How the hell you think we found you? I do wonder though, when did I become the bane of your existence instead of the 'treacherous bastard'."  


"It was a close race, I'll admit, but I think you won out when you took his side."  


Silence descended upon them again. Alistair glared at everything in the general vicinity when he wasn't drinking like a fish, as Enryl continued trying to convince herself this had been a good idea. Another good long drink of mead later the silence had become too much for her.  


"Answer me this... why did you leave?"  


"Isn't it obvious?"  


"No, it isn't. I had made some choices in the past you were less than happy about, but you still stayed. What made this the straw that broke the camels back?"  


"I... I felt betrayed. You had all but agreed to a death sentence for Logain. When it came time to follow through, you welched. I just... I couldn't face you after that."  


"Bull shit."  


"Maker's breath Enryl, are you telling me what I feel now?!"  


"Only when you lie about it. I have no doubt you felt betrayed, as I would have in your shoes. That is no excuse for abandoning your duties. You know as well as I do that my supposed betrayal was an excuse. You wanted an out, and the pity party you threw in front of all of Fereldens nobles assured that no one would take you seriously as King. I should've listened when you said you weren't ready for the throne. You grabbed onto the first excuse you had to get out of being what you were born to be, and you spend every waking minute drinking yourself stupid enough to believe you were right."  


Alistair could have thrown a tantrum. He could have capsized the table and run off in a blind rage. None of that would have been nearly as painful as the look of resignation in his eyes as he fiddled with his empty bottles. "You always could see right through me. You're right, you know. Lately this," He lifted the bottle. "is all that manages to get me even slightly giddy. I can't even forget with this anymore. Are you happy?" The restrained anger in his voice cut deep.  


"No, Alistair, I'm not." Enryl choked back the tears threatening to spring from her eyes. This was a time for strength. There were still things needing fleshed out and they were not the sort of things one said through sobs.  


Taking a breath to steel herself the commander forced her companion to meet her eyes. "In all this time Alistair there has been one question that wouldn't leave my mind. I tried asking everyone, but no one could ever give a proper answer. They always gave sycophantic nonsense that left me with more questions than I started with.  


It finally occurred to me that only someone who wasn't plagued by hero-worship could be my source, and so I thought of you. The only person who has willfully disobeyed me on anything since all this nonsense started. Answer me honestly Alistair. Why did I have to be the chosen one?"  


"What are you talking about?"  


"I was just a simple Dalish rogue when all this started. Why was I locked into being a warden knowing my best friend was doomed to death, or worse? Why did I have no say when a superior officer decided to make a new recruit, still reeling from her joining, the fearless leader? Where was my out when an entire Gods forsaken army had to be assembled, and where was my back road tavern of escape when Amaranthine was dropped in my lap having no experience whatsoever? Why was it okay for you and everyone else to step aside while I had to suck it up and take everything in stride?"  


Alistair hung his head and played with the rim of his empty bottle. "The exits were there Enryl, you just didn't see them. No, that's not right. You were too strong to even acknowledge they were an option. You knew what had to be done, you knew no one else was going to do it, so you did it."  


"Funny, I recall you saying you refused to abandon Ferelden once. Wasn't that shortly after I suggested fleeing?"  


"We both know you were only testing me with that question."  


Enryl chuckled lightly as she waved away the waiter. "Yeah, I had to leave my family so quickly, there's no way I would just leave them to die having done nothing."  


A mildly concerned look graced his features. "Did you ever return, to the Dalish I mean?"  


"I have made my way there, but I have a new family now."  


"So he finally decided to stay with you? The way he acted anytime the l-word came up you'd think it was a curse. " He took a decent drag from his recently acquired third bottle. "How is Zevran doing anyway?"  


"Most likely pacing the floors at an inn two doors down. I told him if he was so worried he could come too but he kept saying it was a 'Warden thing'. I just think he didn't want to be in the middle of the awkwardness. With all his oozing charm it would probably give him a rash."  


"Is that what you call it? I thought it was pomade."  


Enryl chuckled lightly. "So I take it you're not angry with me anymore?"  


"I don't think I'm quite drunk enough for that yet, although the hatred is more of a glowing ember than the raging inferno it was before."  


"Improvement is good, although something tells me you're opinion will return to normal with sobriety. I wish to ask you something important though. The real reason I went to such lengths to find you."  


"Oh, and what would that be?"  


"Have you... dedicated Duncan's grave yet?"  


The ex-wardens eyes widened in realization. "No. You've come to keep our promise?"  


"Yes. There is a memorial for all those who died at Ostagar, but we made a pact to give him a proper resting place. We were to go together, and I didn't feel it right to take that privilege from you. Would you be willing to put aside your vendetta long enough to have a funeral?"  


Alistair chuckled lightly and scratched at his forehead. "I think I could do just about anything for Duncan. I'd like to 'bury' him in Highever. He always spoke of it highly."  


"No objections here. Is it still okay to do this together?" Enryl stared at him nervously.  


"I think he would have liked that. Duncan was a great man, forgiving to a fault. He conscripted a lot of Wardens that others would have written off as hardened criminals. It would honor his memory to forgive you."  


"So have you... forgiven me, that is?"  


"Not quite yet, but I will try."  


"That's better than I'd hoped for." Wearily she lifted herself from the booth and threw a few more coins on the table. "I suppose there's really nothing more to say that can't be said on the road. Originally I had hoped our journey would be just us Wardens but my charms failed to convince Zevran that you wouldn't simply stab me in the back at the first convenient opportunity."  


"Then why didn't he come tonight?"  


She rubbed the back of her head nervously. "Actually, he made me promise to wait til it was late enough for you to be piss drunk. Although if the rumors are true that could've been noon."  


"Or breakfast, a few months back."  


"So we're doing this?"  


"Yes. I think I need this."  


"Great, um we don't have to start tomorrow. Just... whenever you're ready come to the inn. We're in room three." Not wanting to try his patience she waved and quickly left.

Alistair fully relaxed into his seat, sighing wistfully. It was remarkable how her timing always seemed perfect. Maybe not for herself, but for the people of Ferelden. Had their paths crossed only two months ago, the reception would have been far more hostile. He still refused to forgive her betrayal, but after being forced to deal with his thoughts recently, her presence had become a bit more welcome. It was his fondest wish to live again, truly live.

Grabbing what was left of his whiskey, Alistair strode to the counter. Ordering a bottle of Antivan brandy, Duncan's favorite, he left for his own room. He would bathe, shave, and give himself a proper haircut in preparation for tomorrow. It was time to stop living in disgrace, if only until they had properly laid their brother to rest. He had put all of this off for far too long, and as he stared at his freshly cleaned and cut self, he felt more himself than he had in years.


End file.
